


Guardian Angel

by Mockingbryd



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Ending, Short One Shot, but a little, minor reference to poly crew, most are minor references besides Phil Wilbur and Eret, so not really shipping, someone come save all these kids, wilbur is damaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingbryd/pseuds/Mockingbryd
Summary: A more detailed retelling version of what happened between Phil and Wilbur under L'Manburg that day - with a haunted memory from the past coming back.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Kudos: 17





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back when it was all more relevant over on my tumblr account, CelestialScarlet. This was actually the first fanfic I ever wrote so enjoy.

A guardian angel. Phil had tried to take the role, but now it felt so unfitting. Guardian Angels succeeded in protecting their charges, and all he had done was be complicit and silent. He had tried to watch over his family. But fear had kept him back. That he’d ruin the few precious thing he had to care about. But it was Hope too. Hope that they could take care of one another. When Techno had come in and joined them, when it was the three of them, his sons, he thought it’d be ok. 

But now he was here. A nervous flutter was all that alerted Wilbur of his entrance. But his son barely turned, there was a cruel smile on his face. 

But it wasn’t _cruel_ , was it? No. It was an attempt to be cruel, but Wilbur didn’t have the capacity to be cruel. Not anymore. All he could be was hollow. There was only empty in his eyes, that portrayed a tired that could only be felt by those who’d gone through as much as he had. 

“What are you doing,” it was quiet. An rage simmered underneath the surface, but maybe not towards the man who stood opposite to him, but at himself. 

He should’ve done _something_. He was here watching. Philza saw the big picture as everyone was still scrambling to put together the pieces. 

“Do you know what that button does, Phil?” Wilbur asked with a haphazard gesture. 

“Yes.”

Silence lapsed, as Philza tried desperately to think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said. To convince him. Wilbur moved towards the signs that had been posted all around the room.

“Have you heard the song?”

He didn’t even get a chance to answer before Wilbur continued. 

“There was a special place Philza. _Was._ This shell of L’manburg is not the sanctuary I had tried to build.”

“Not yet, but it _could_ be. Tubbo’s president. Let him prove to you, let us all prove to you that this can be different.” Phil reached out and tried to close the gap, but Will recoiled as if he had been struck. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve come here,” Wilbur asked his voice shaking with rage. His first slammed against the stone, just above the button. Phil flinched almost imperceptibly, but Wilbur had caught it. 

“You don’t even trust me. Good. No one should ever trust anyone. Not Tubbo, not Techno, not Eret, not Dream. Especially not me”

The faint explosions of fireworks were muffled by their position underground and yet the noise seemed to only further agitate Will. 

“Look at them, _celebrating._ They don’t even know I’m in here. They trusted me, they’re fools. I told them all. I told them what would happen,” there was a scoff, and Wilbur turned his back to Philza. His knuckles bled white, and hands were shaking.

“Just take a step back Will, it’s not too late. L’manburg is here. We’re all here,” the winged figure could feel himself losing his son. He could feel Will spiraling. 

He offered a hand, and his wings spread slightly. Hope. Almost. There was hesitation now. A single tear traced its way down Wilbur’s check. Philza could see the shine. 

“There was a traitor before, you may know him. He had a saying...”

**It was never meant to be.**

_His hands shook nervously, he swallowed. This was the best thing._

_“The chests are empty Eret.”_

_“What is this?”_

_“Why do you look nervous?”_

_Silence was their only answer, well that and the press of a button. As the walls started to shift and change, Eret stumbled backwards and pressed himself into the chamber that had been made for safety._

_Then all he heard was screaming, the sound of swords tearing into armor. Blood stained the ground. So much. Too much. What had he done? Then he heard laughter. The sound of men celebrating their victory. Bile rose in his throat. He caught a glimpse of torn bandanas and ripped uniforms. It had been a slaughter. The coup de grâce. Better to end the war now, before it really started. When the ending was inevitable anyway...right? He had to compose himself. He was king now. He didn’t regret what he’d done. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t..._

_As she walked back into the open, she felt a clap on her back from Dream. It took everything in her not to flinch away from the touch._

_“We’ll have to get you a crown now your highness. How does it feel?” A smile split across his face. A broken one, a hollow one, put on more to convince himself that they’d done the right thing._

_“Good.”_

_They paused before continuing._

_“Down with the revolution boys._ **_It was never meant to be_ ** _.”_

Philza heard the hissing, and on instinct alone he reached forward and pulled Wilbur back into himself. His wings spreading around them both. He felt the wave of force pull at the muscles. Debris shredded the feathers. Ringing filled his ears, and Phil stumbled, pulling them both backwards. Eventually, when he hoped things were safe, he drew them back best he could and peered out. A hole had been torn into the wall, he watched the carnage and what was left of L’manburg. 

Alex laid on the ground, burns covering his body. Closest to the blast and had suffered for it. One of the champions of the war, he had only ever wanted to do what was _right_. 

Tommy held Tubbo, blood coming from hidden wounds. Calling out hoarsely for the very man that had caused all of this. Because he knew it had been Wilbur. He knew, but how could he believe it?

Eret stood with Nikki and Fundy. Their crown was long gone now, placed upon another’s head. They lost and continued to lose. A horrible sense of déjà vu filled them. This was their fault; they should never have been a traitor. L’manburg had been doomed to violence because of them. Horror almost dropped Eret to their knees, but Nikki and Fundy help them up. They were all in this together again. Past sins were forgiven. 

Karl pulled Sapnap out of rumble, laughing from the shock of it all. He couldn’t even stand to look at the state of Alex. His fiancées, both barely holding on. Wet tears tracked down his face.

George rushed on to the scene trying desperately to help those injured and made his way over to Quackity - the two discarded Vice President together again. The crown fell off his head, and George barely gave it a passing glance, not being able to bear the thought of the weight. 

Ponk, Purpled, Punz, and Antfrost tried desperately to push the fallen rumble. Half in a state of shock, while the others were barely able to see through their tears. They all had injuries of their own, but they couldn’t possibly spend a thought on that. Not when Sam and Bad were trapped underneath. 

Techno was stepping away from the crowd as if they had made a decision of their own. Pulling the mask further over their own face. This scene, a tragedy to most, was not a surprise to him. War ignored no victims, spared no innocents. 

He was so unphased, he ignored Dream who was watching with a mad grin on his face. Laughing not out of shock, but because this had been the plan all along. The puppet master had always known this is how it would end. Because what better revenge for that loss all those months ago, then to drive a man mad into blowing up the very thing he’d fought for – and take out any threats at the same time. 

Phil took it all in, unable to comprehend the pain. The loss. The suffering. 

“What have you done Will,” Phil’s hand went to cover his mouth. Tears numbly falling from his eyes. Not even he had escaped the damage. Sparing a glance at the wings that now hung on his back, he felt a pit in his stomach. A guardian angel who couldn’t do his job, well he deserved to lose his wings.

“Phil,” it was soft, pleading. 

Turning back to Wilbur who was crumpled in a heap at one of the walls left standing, he closed the distance between them. 

Crouching down, Phil placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“ _Kill me_.”

Will forced his father to look at him. Pulling Wilbur into a hug, he felt a head rest on his shoulder.

“ _Please_.”

A hand drifted to the sheathed sword at Phil’s waist. All he could see was their anger. The anger when they all came into the room where Wilbur laid now. They wouldn’t understand, Phil had only just barely begun to grasp it. 

He remembered watching his first steps. Watching Wilbur sloppily spar with Techno. As they continued to grow up, Wilbur slowly begin to teach Tommy, and take in Tubbo. He remembered the first war they so valiantly fought. The van, the walls. Watching it all. The Declaration, the election, the highs and the lows.

“You’re my son. I’ll always love you. _I’m sorry_ ,” and with that he made a final decisive motion. 

Phil felt his son bleed out in his arms, and stayed there. Through the fighting, the withers, the panic. He couldn’t protect him in life, but now - maybe now he could protect him. When he finally did get up the courage to leave and face the rest, Phil turned to give one last look. And maybe, just maybe he had felt the ghost of a touch in his shoulder. Forgiveness... or maybe he had just imagined it.


End file.
